


Well, SOMEONE Had to Say It!

by GythaOgg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bunker Sex, But not Dean's first time, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time, Eavesdropping, Everyone Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, He's Just Trying to Help Though, Jack is a Little Shit, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Sam Ships It, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, everyone knows, jack ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 09:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GythaOgg/pseuds/GythaOgg
Summary: Jack tilted his head, bewildered. Dean hasn’t told Castiel that he loves him? But why? Surely he already knows; it’s quite obvious. And surely Dean must see that Castiel loves him too? Everyone knows. Jack could tell, even when he was in the womb, when he was seeing through his mother’s eyes, hearing through her ears. Even then, it was clear how much Dean and Castiel loved one another. Obvious that it pained Cas to be away from Dean, and to think about raising Jack with Kelly, away from the bunker. When Dean finally accepted him, it meant the world to Jack, because Dean was the closest he could get to his father. Dean carried a part of Castiel inside him, and he loved Castiel like no one else in the universe. No, there was no question that these two were in love, and Jack was going to make them see it.





	Well, SOMEONE Had to Say It!

**Author's Note:**

> More or less Season 13 canon, about 2 weeks after Cas’s return from the Empty. Just after Tombstone, except Jack didn’t freak out and leave.

Now that Cas was alive and well, and back from the Empty, Jack felt safer. His family was intact again, and Cas has been slowly teaching him to use his powers. Sam had tried his best, but Jack had been frustrated and terrified of his powers, until his father returned from the dead. Between Cas’s tutelage, and Dean’s long talks about “living with the consequences of our actions”, Jack was truly learning now, and growing up. Dean is teaching him that the best thing you can hope for is to make sure the good results outweigh the bad; that the lives saved outnumber the tragedies, and that is Jack’s goal. He wants to be responsible, he wants to make Cas and Dean and Sam proud of him. He wants to help.

But first, he has to learn everything he can, about Earth, about humans, angels, demons, and monsters. About his powers. Cas and Dean were convinced that it was Jack who woke Cas up in the Empty, and ever since, they’ve hinted that he might, eventually, be the most powerful being in the universe, short of God. (Actually, Dean’s not 100% on that “short of God” part, since God supposedly has no power over the Empty.) Sam and Jack, on the other hand, are not so sure. Nevertheless, he’s still only 6 weeks old, so it’s best to learn what he can and can’t accomplish, just in case. So Jack practices with Castiel, he talks with Sam and Dean, he studies the books and scrolls in the bunker library, and he experiments. Like teleporting (“ _it’s not teleporting, Dean. This isn’t Dr. Who_ ”) or moving objects with his mind, or changing the temperature in the room . . .  Jack will stumble across something he can kind of do, or that he’s sure he should be able to do, and he’ll experiment until he’s got it down.

Castiel has been home from the Empty for two weeks now, and Jack has never seen both his father and his Dad so happy. He calls Dean “Dad”, just like he calls Castiel “Father”, but he only says “Dad” in his head, now. A few days ago, he said it out loud, and Dean had been . . . surprised. He’d asked Jack why he “got the honor”. Jack had explained that it only seemed right, since Dean was Castiel’s mate, and he was raising Jack too, that Dean also be afforded the title of Parent. But Dean had not reacted properly. He froze, eyes wide, swallowing loudly, while Sam sputtered in the background, clearly trying not to laugh. After several seconds, all Dean was able to choke out was, “I’m . . . we’re not . . . that’s not . . . CAS!!!” Jack had turned to Sam in confusion, head tilt and all, as Dean stormed out of the library.

“What just happened?” Jack had asked. Sam had taken a deep breath and looked weary and melancholy. “They’re not mates, Jack.” As Jack opened his mouth again, Sam had put one hand up, forestalling the inevitable next question. “Don’t ask me why. No one knows why. Probably not even the two of them.”

After that, Jack had tried to ask Castiel about it, but he just blushed and shook his head, changing the subject. Dean would simply get up and leave the room whenever Jack brought the subject up, so instead, Jack began to study the two of them ( _his parents, no matter what Dean said_). He watched them closely, but they never seemed to say much where Jack could overhear, even with his remarkable hearing. Nothing that shed any light on their mysteriously platonic relationship, anyway. If anything, it was more mysterious, the closer Jack examined it. They were clearly very close – Dean had been suicidal after Castiel died, and had even blamed Jack for his death, at first. Jack can see the Enochian runes still etched into Sam and Dean’s ribs, and he knows there are a few extra words on Dean’s ribs. _Possessive_ words. Their day-to-day behavior is a “dead giveaway” too, as Sam would say. The lingering touches, the constant staring, the complete lack of personal space between them. They clearly love each other more than life itself, have repeatedly killed and died for each other, and yet, they insist that they’re “just friends”, or at best, “family”. It doesn’t make sense. The angst and longing coming from both of them is almost tangible; they’d obviously be much happier together. Jack just wants to help.

Jack is thinking about his parents’ weird relationship again today, while he practices manifesting his wings, and stowing them away again. That was one of the angel skills that Castiel has been teaching him, but Jack hasn’t quite gotten the hang of it yet. Sometimes he struggled to put them back on their ethereal plan, where humans can’t see them, so he’s practicing over and over again.

This time, he’s a little distracted, and he can’t quite get his wings over that little intangible hitch, into the other plane. So he pushes a bit harder, and kind of forces his way in. Except, it’s not just his wings that end up there; it’s all of him. Now, Jack can see and hear the bunker and everything in it, but everything is just a tiny bit . . . _off_. Softer colors, slightly muted sounds, but otherwise completely normal. Well, except for the fact that, apparently, Jack can’t touch anything. _Uh oh_. He walks into the war room, where Sam is doing research on his laptop. “Sam? . . . Sam, can you hear me?” No reaction. He tries to slap his hands down on the table, to pat Sam on the shoulder, to pull his hair and kick his leg, but nothing works. He just moves right through every surface, like it’s not even there.

“Son of a bitch” he mutters. Jack wonders if this is how ghosts feel all the time. Well, he’s not the only angel in the bunker. Maybe his father will be able to see him.

Jack wanders down the hall, looking for Castiel. His bedroom is empty, but he hears Cas’s voice coming from Dean’s room. Jack hovers outside the door at first, reluctant to eavesdrop (Sam and Dean say it’s rude, but for some reason, Castiel has always refused to weigh in on the subject). Then, Jack remembers that they probably can’t see him, and he grows bold, drifting through the closed door, and perching in a corner, watching.

Castiel is standing in the middle of the room, looking sheepish, while Dean sits on his bed, frowning at the two folded t-shirts on his lap. “Cas,” he says, looking up. “You don’t have to give them back. I don’t mind if you wear my clothes.” There’s a pause, and then Dean mutters, apparently to the t-shirts, “You look good in my clothes”.

Cas’s eyes widen at that, but then he looks down at his shoes and shakes his head. “I took them without asking. I apologize, Dean.” Dean stands and tries to hand the shirts back to Castiel. “It’s fine, Cas. Keep ‘em, if you want.” But Cas raises his hands in front of his chest, taking a half-step backwards. “No, I washed them. They don’t . . . “ he trails off. Dean’s brow crinkles, one eye squinting up at Cas. “Huh? They don’t what, Cas?  . . . Cas?” Cas’s attention is back on his shoes again, and he sighs. He suddenly looks exhausted. “They don’t smell like you anymore.”  

Dean doesn’t look any less confused, but he does look a little panicked. He rubs the back of his neck and says “Umm. Uhhh . . . huh”. After another 10 seconds of avoiding each other’s gaze, Castiel abruptly darts out the door.

When he’s gone, Dean stares at the door and blows out a breath, shoulders slumping. He flops back down on the bed and groans. “For fuck’s sake, Winchester! You kill monsters and demons every damn day, but you’re too chicken shit to tell him you love him?” He whines in frustration, covering his face with the still-folded t-shirts.

Jack tilted his head, bewildered. Dean hasn’t told Castiel that he loves him? But why? Surely he already knows; it’s quite obvious. And surely Dean must see that Castiel loves him too? Everyone knows. Jack could tell, even when he was in the womb, when he was seeing through his mother’s eyes, hearing through her ears. Even then, it was clear how much Dean and Castiel loved one another. Obvious that it pained Cas to be away from Dean, and to think about raising Jack with Kelly, away from the bunker. Then, after Jack was born, and he learned that he’d lost both his mother and father in one night, Jack had been grateful that he’d ended up in the care of Sam and Dean, the two people his father had trusted most in all the world. It hurt him at first, that Dean had resented him so much. But Jack soon understood that Dean’s heart had broken at the loss of his angel, and that Dean needed someone to blame. Jack already blamed himself for Kelly’s death, and though he knew it was Lucifer who killed Castiel, Jack figured he could shoulder the blame for that too, if it would help Dean heal. In the meantime, he would do whatever he could to prove himself, to make Sam and Dean ( _especially Dean_ ) proud. And he did. When Dean finally accepted him, it meant the world to Jack, because Dean was the closest he could get to his father. Dean carried a part of Castiel inside him, and he loved Castiel like no one else in the universe. No, there was no question that these two were in love, and Jack was going to make them see it.

Jack left Dean’s bedroom, once again in search of Castiel. Eventually, he found him sitting in the field of wildflowers behind the bunker, talking to a honeybee who had perched on his hand. Jack stayed back a few yards, far enough that Castiel wouldn’t notice him if he _could_ see him, but close enough to hear the conversation.

“I don’t know what to think anymore. Sometimes I believe Dean returns my affections, but then he shuts down, or makes a joke, or goes out to a bar and finds a woman, so I must be mistaken. I know I’m still not very good at reading human emotions.” Castiel sighed, turning his hand slowly, so the honeybee could crawl over his knuckles. If the bee was offering any advice, Jack couldn’t hear it. With a half-shrug, Castiel continued. “I suppose I could just read his thoughts, now that my powers are restored, but I promised Dean I wouldn’t do that anymore, and I won’t break my word to him again.”

Jack made a mental note to ask his father to teach him how to read human thoughts. That could be so useful!

When Castiel spoke again, it was in a terribly sad, resigned voice, and he had that weary look on his face again. “Perhaps you’re right. I should be content with what I have. It is a miracle, after all. I’m alive, my grace is intact, Jack is safe and here with us, with our family. If Dean will only ever love me as a brother, then I should rejoice in that love. I would rather have him as a friend than not at all.” With that, the honeybee flew off to a patch of wild four o’clocks, and Castiel wrapped his arms around his knees, staring off into the meadow.

Jack was filled with sympathy. But as he sat, watching his father, his sympathy turned to determination. Someone had to do something about this situation, and since no one else had ever bothered in all these years, Jack would have to do it himself. He couldn’t fathom why Sam had never took it upon himself to help . . . after all, he’d been living in the middle of this mess for almost a decade. Maybe he’d never realized how easy it would be to fix? Sam was very smart, but it was so simple, perhaps Sam had just overlooked the obvious solution.

Before he could help, however, Jack had to get back to the material plane, and Castiel was his best hope at that. As much as he was enjoying eavesdropping, he needed to be productive, and he couldn’t do that from the ether. Besides, he was getting hungry. Jack carefully approached his father in the field, trying not to startle him. He could see Castiel’s wings in sharp focus, so they were definitely here, on the ethereal plane, with Jack. He very gently reached out and petted the top of one wing. Castiel jumped, flinching away. He sat up very straight and looked around, but he looked right through Jack. So he tried again. This time, Cas narrowed his eyes a bit, focusing his angelic sight, and he finally spotted Jack. “Jack!” Castiel cried, shocked. “What are you doing in there?”

Jack’s eyes lit up at his father’s words. _Thank goodness, finally!_ Then he blushed, shuffling his feet in the grass. “Ummm, I’m sort of . . . stuck. I was practicing putting my wings away, and I got a little carried away. And then I couldn’t figure out how to get back.”

Castiel’s eyes softened, and the edge of his mouth quirked up, just a little. He loved Jack, despite all the turmoil his conception and birth had caused, and he was glad they were together. He was honored that Jack had chosen him to be his father, and it showed. Jack could see it on his face, and for a moment, Jack had to blink away tears. His father was a good person, and he was willing to sacrifice anything to take care of Jack. Castiel he deserved to be happy, and Dean was the person who could make that happen.

Once Cas had shown Jack how to safely step between the planes, they headed back to the bunker. As they walked down the stairs, the smell of cooking meat drifted across the war room. Jack rushed into the kitchen, Castiel trailing behind. “Are you making cheeseburgers?!” Jack asked excitedly, addressing Dean’s back, as he stood at the stove. Dean’s low voice chuckled as he turned, holding a wooden spoon in one hand. “Nope. Even better. Cheeseburger mac & cheese!” Jack noticed that Dean’s eyes were focused somewhere over his shoulder, and he turned to see Castiel grinning. “I love cheeseburger mac & cheese. It doesn’t taste so much like molecules” he said, blushing slightly. Dean flushed as well, darting his eyes away before answering, “I know”. Jack turned to sit at the table, and saw Sam roll his eyes at his brother, shaking his head slowly. _So Sam does see it_, Jack thought to himself. _I knew it!_  

The four of them sat down to dinner, and Jack was delighted with his meal. The spirally pasta (“rotini”, Sam called it), the spicy cheese sauce, the hamburger meat, and the little pieces of roasted red peppers were a perfect combination, and Jack declared it his new favorite food. “Better than nougat?” Dean teased. “Mmmhmm. Bear ‘n oogit!” Jack replied, mouth full. Castiel ate a whole bowl, beaming at Jack and Dean in between bites.

After dinner, they all settled in the TV room to watch Netflix. Dean, Cas, and Jack squeezed onto the couch, while Sam sprawled in his armchair, manning the remote control. As they scrolled through the movies and shows, debating what to watch, Cas turned to look fondly at Dean. “That was really very nice of you, making that for dinner”, he said. Dean blushed and smiled, shrugging. Without a second thought, Jack turned to Cas and said, “He did it because he loves you”. Cas’s head pivoted sharply back and forth, while Dean’s eyes bugged out of his head. Seeing Dean’s obvious distress, Castiel sighed and said, “Jack, Dean loves all of us. You, me, and Sam. We’re a family”. Over Cas’s shoulder, Jack spotted Dean’s fleeting look of disappointment. “Yes, but he’s in love with you”, Jack pressed, determined not to let this chance pass them by.

Sam suddenly sprang to his feet. “Well, I gotta go do something, ya know, somewhere else!” he stuttered, and speed-walked out of the room. Castiel’s eyes stayed glued to Jack’s, but in Jack’s peripheral vision, he could see Dean trying to catch his eye, making frantic slicing motions across his throat. Jack tilted his head, meeting Dean’s gaze, and furrowed his brow. He copied Dean’s hand gesture, curiously, but it still didn’t make any sense to him. Cas turned to look at Dean, catching him mid-slice. “Dean?” Cas said, brokenly. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

Cas looked back over his shoulder at Jack, and said, quietly, “Jack, would you please give us some privacy?” Jack, grinning ear to ear, got up and tiptoed dramatically out of the room and down the hall. There he stood, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, straining to hear his parents’ hushed voices.

“Dean?” Cas asked, turning his whole body to face him this time. He put his hand on Dean’s knee, and Dean took a deep breath. “OK, whatever I say, you have to promise not to just take off, OK?” he said gruffly. Cas squeezed his knee and smiled. “I’m not going anywhere, Dean.”

Dean looked Cas in the eye, and very slowly, moved his hand to cover Castiel’s, on his knee. When Cas didn’t retreat, didn’t break eye contact, didn’t move his hand, Dean cleared his throat and said, “Umm, the kid’s right. I uh, I do. I mean, I am. Shit, I’m not doing this right.”

“I love you too, Dean.” Castiel interrupted.

Dean stared, open-mouthed. “You . . . you do? Really??”

“Yes, Dean. Always, though I didn’t realize what it was at first. Not until Purgatory. Though, apparently everyone in Heaven and Hell and in between knew before me.”

Dean smirked. “Yeah, you noticed all those comments too, huh?” He looked down, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Cas’s wrist. “Sooooo . . . when you say you love me, does that mean . . . ?” Dean looked up at Cas through his eyelashes. Cas leaned forward, fisting his other hand in the front of Dean’s shirt, and pulled him closer. Dean closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to Castiel’s, whimpering just a little bit. He let Cas steer the kiss for a moment, still a bit shell-shocked that this was actually happening. He was finally, FINALLY kissing his angel, and Cas was kissing him back! Soon enough, his body caught up with his brain, and he snaked one hand around the back of Cas’s neck, holding him close and licking into his mouth. His other arm wrapped around his waist, and Cas’s arm mimicked the action, dragging Dean into his lap as they kissed. Cas broke away, trailing kisses down Dean’s neck, nipping and licking the skin there, growling when he felt Dean begin to grind against him.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you, angel?” Dean groaned, pressing his face into Cas’s dark, messy hair. “How much I dream about you? What your voice does to me?”

Cas kissed his way up to Dean’s ear, biting his earlobe and slowly running his tongue along the shell. “What does it do to you, Dean?” he asked, his voice even more gravelly than usually. Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and pressed it to the erection straining against his jeans, hissing at the contact. He felt Cas smile against his cheek, squeezing his trapped cock once, before moving to unbutton his fly. Dean whipped his t-shirt off, grateful that he’d skipped the flannel overshirt this morning, and slid back off Castiel’s lap, shimmying out of his jeans. He laid back on the couch, staring up at cobalt eyes deeper than any ocean, and pressed one hand to Cas’s face, his thumb brushing against his stubbled jaw. “You’re so beautiful, Cas” he whispered.

Cas covered Dean’s hand with his own, smiling, the hunger in his eyes turning to tenderness. Then his gaze drifted down to Dean’s strong shoulders, across his chest, and he felt his vessel’s cock jump. He usually subdued the human urges and reactions of his vessel, but over the years, he’d found it more and more difficult to do so near Dean. Now, he let his body have full reign, and it very much appreciated the sight before him.

Cas slid his fingers over Dean’s skin, stroking across his chest, and down his stomach, teasing along his hipbones, before resting them on the waistband of Dean’s visibly tented boxer briefs. Dean reached out to gently grab his wrist, snagging the angel’s attention. Dean looked worried. “Hey, you don’t have to . . . ya know . . . do anything, if you don’t wanna. I mean . . . I know angels don’t really . . . “, he said, quietly.

Cas leaned down to kiss Dean’s stomach, then glanced up at him, slipping his fingers under the waistband. “Angels don’t do a lot of things, Dean. I think we’ve established that I’m not a standard-issue angel” and with that, he slowly pulled Dean’s boxer briefs down, tugging them off and dropping them to the floor.

Dean’s cock, thick and flushed and hard as steel, slapped against his belly. Castiel glanced down, and felt his vessel’s mouth water. He stared, fascinated. He’d rebuilt Dean’s entire body after he pulled him from Hell, and he had seen him naked a few times since, but never when he was aroused. This was entirely news, and all the more thrilling because he was the cause of Dean’s arousal. He dipped his head down and licked a long, wet stripe up Dean’s dick. Dean gasped and clenched his hand in the couch cushions, so Cas smirked, and did it again. This time, Dean’s hip twitched, and he huffed out a breath between clenched teeth, clearing struggling to control himself. Cas pressed a hand against Dean’s hip, wrapped his lips around the head of his cock, and did his best to mimic what he’d seen in pornography. 

Jack doesn’t hear his parents’ voices for a while, so he tiptoes back into the room, and peeks over the back of the couch. As soon as he sees Castiel crouched between Dean’s naked thighs, he swallows a squeak and pops into the ethereal plan, running back down the hall and giggling.

By the time Cas was done, Dean was a writhing, squirming, panting mess. “Cas! Cas, wait! I wanna come with you inside me. Pleeeeaaaaase, Cas” he gasped, pulling at Castiel’s hair. Cas pulled back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, pupils blown wide with lust. “You want me . . . inside you?” he panted. Dean reached for him, sitting up and pulling him into a desperate kiss. “Yes, angel” he whispered against his lips, nodding frantically.

Castiel pressed his forehead against Dean’s, and in the next second, they were in Dean’s bed. Dean looked around, realizing where they were, and surged forward, kissing Cas hard on the mouth and fumbling with his tie. The angel got with the program quickly, unbuttoning his shirt and starting on his pants, just as Dean began kissing down his shoulders. He dragged Cas’s pants down, mouthing at his chest and kissing his nipples, and when he finally had him down to only a pair of white boxers, Dean sat back on the bed and stared, hand drifting to his own hard length. “Jesus, Cas.”

After a few moments of unabashed ogling, Dean twisted on the bed, reaching into his nightstand. When he laid back down, he had a bottle of Astroglide in his hand, and immediately snapped it open, pouring some into his palm. He held Cas’s gaze as he let his legs drop open, and reached down, circling his hole. Cas stared hungrily, eyes flicking between Dean’s face and his fingers, as Dean carefully pressed one, and then two, into his body. Dean moaned, scissoring his fingers, twisting his wrist, stretching himself open.

“You gonna take those boxers off, Angel, or am I on my own here?” he asked, smirking. Cas growled, yanking off his underwear immediately, and climbing back on to the bed, pushing Dean’s arm out of the way. He smoothed his hands up the inside of Dean’s thighs, pushing them up, as he inched closer. Cas grabbed the bottle of lube from where it had fallen on the bed, and squirted some into his own hand. He stroked down Dean’s balls, and over his perineum, causing Dean to sigh, then slowly slipped two fingers into Dean’s loosened entrance. He moved them in and out, stroking Dean’s body from the inside. Soon, Dean was pressing down onto his fingers, writhing, and asking for “more . . . more Cas, pleeeeaase”.  Castiel obliged, using a third finger, and spreading them wide, searching for the spot inside the hunter that would make him fall apart. After a moment or two, he grazed the bundle of nerves, and Dean squealed, desperately thrusting himself down on Cas’s hand. “FUCK! Yes, right there! Do it again. Ugh!” So he did. After less than a minute, however, Dean couldn’t take anymore, and begged Cas to “get on with it, already”.

Once more, Cas scooped up the Astroglide, and slicked up his aching erection. He stared down at Dean, eyes dark, lips parted, and reached his wet hand out to rub at Dean’s balls, swiftly moving up to wrap long fingers around his cock. Cas kept stroking as he lined up, and pressed slowly into Dean. Both men moaned long and low as Cas slid deeper, inch by inch, until he bottomed out. He bit his lip and squeezed Dean’s thighs, struggling to hold still. Dean’s head was pressed back into the pillow, eyes shut, mouth agape. “Fuuuuck, Cas. Move. Please, move!” he groaned, squirming.

Cas grinned, relieved, and began slowly sliding in and out, finding his rhythm. He’d never experienced anything like this, and it was, frankly, amazing. His one experience with April had been pleasant, but nothing like this. Dean was nearly incandescent in his arousal, stunningly beautiful, and the single most erotic thing Castiel had ever seen. He could hardly believe how tight and hot Dean felt around his cock, and he wondered if he would be able to stave off his own orgasm long enough to give Dean the pleasure he deserved. He could always use his grace if he had to, but he was enjoying this so very much, and he wanted to remain wholly present in his vessel, not be detached, distanced by the use of his grace.

Soon enough, Dean was lifting his hips to meet Castiel’s thrusts, grabbing at Cas’s hips, and begging. “Ohhh fuck, Cas! Cas! Harder, fuck me harder, Angel. Pleeeeaase!” Cas gasped, thrilled by the desperation in the hunter’s eyes. He leaned forward and slid his hands under Dean’s shoulders, using them for leverage. Dean wrapped his legs around Cas’s waist, pulling him deeper, and dug his fingers into Cas’s skin. Cas groaned, slamming into Dean, and Dean shouted his name, eyes wide, as Castiel hit his prostate dead-on. “Cas! Fuck! Do it again! Gaaahhh!” he screamed out, as Cas repeated the motion again and again, pounding into him. After only a few seconds, Dean’s whole body seized up, and his cock throbbed between them, Dean coming untouched for the first time in his life. Cas fucked him through his orgasm, barely holding out for a few more thrusts, before Dean’s clenching hole and spasming hips pushed him over the edge and he flooded his hunter, collapsing on top of him, heedless of the mess.

They lay there, panting for a minute, with Dean absently running his hand through Castiel’s hair. Finally, Dean pushed at Cas’s shoulder and sighed, “You’re squishing me, babe”. “Oh, apologies,” Cas muttered, rolling off to lay at Dean’s side. He grimaced, glancing down at their sticky, sweaty bodies, then waved a hand vaguely, instantly cleaning them both with his grace. Dean chuckled, curling up against Cas and laying his head on his chest. “Nice! Thanks, angel. God, that was amazing.”

Cas cocked an eyebrow and craned his neck to look down at Dean. “What? It was!” he argued, but Cas continued giving him The Look. “What?!?” he asked again.

“Dean, why would you bring up my father when we’re naked, in bed? It’s . . . awkward, at best.” Cas said, seriously. Dean stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing, though he quickly got it under control. “I’m sorry, angel. You’re right. New rule: no mention of parents or siblings in bed. Promise. Now come here.” He snuggled up close to Cas, wrapping one arm around his waist. After a few minutes, he whispered, “That really was amazing, Cas. I’m sorry it took us so long to get here, but I’m glad we’re here now”. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and hugged him tight. “I am too, Dean. You are the single most miraculous thing that has ever happened to me, and I love you more than I can say.”

Dean hummed against his chest. “Stay with me? I know you don’t have to sleep, but . . . “ Cas smiled into Dean’s hair. “There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be. Of course I’ll stay. Goodnight, Beloved.” He felt Dean smile, pressing a kiss to his skin. “Goodnight, my angel.”

In the morning, they walked into the kitchen hand in hand, where Sam and Jack were sitting at the table, clearly waiting for them. They broke into applause as Dean and Cas entered the room. Sam even wolf-whistled. Dean rolled his eyes and flipped off Sam, but he didn’t let go of Castiel’s hand for even a second. Instead, he turned to kiss Cas on the temple, and said, “What do all you troublemakers want for breakfast?” He got several conflicting answers, so he poured two cups of coffee while they hashed it out. He brought one to Cas, at the table, and then turned towards the stove, to start on the breakfast consensus of blueberry pancakes. As he turned, Jack said, hopefully, “Can I call you ‘Dad’ now, Dad?” He looked back over his shoulder at Jack, and at Castiel, sitting next to him, and gave them a broad, slow smile. “Yeah, I think ya can, kiddo”, he said, winking at Cas. “And Jack? Thank you, for what you said last night.” Jack beamed at his parents. “Well, someone had to say it!”

 


End file.
